


kiss the past away (like new year's day)

by independentalto



Category: Agents of S.H.I.E.L.D. (TV)
Genre: Magic, New Year's Eve kisses, wanda's with them just let it be
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-01-01
Updated: 2019-01-01
Packaged: 2019-10-01 19:33:53
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 6,284
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17250092
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/independentalto/pseuds/independentalto
Summary: It's New Year's Eve, and Wanda thinks everybody should be kissing the one they love when the ball drops, whether they know it or not. Getting that to actually happen, though, is the harder part.





	1. we could be kings of the world

“Director Coulson.”

Coulson freezes as soon as he hears the voice, because it belongs to Wanda, and it usually means she has some sort of crazy idea that he’ll _somehow_ agree to (because there’s really no way he can say no and she _is_ an Avenger, after all.) because she makes it all seem rational. “Yes, Wanda?”

“I had a vision.”

Now he’s _really_ screwed. “If this involves building _another_ paintball arena, _no_ , because Hunter still complains about the bruises he got from the last one.” Coulson doesn’t think he can go a day without the mercenary mentioning it at least once.

“It is about the festivities this evening,” Wanda continues, and follows Coulson down the hallway as he heads to his office. “I had a vision that those meant to be would come together in a peculiar way.”

“And what do those peculiar ways mean?” Coulson asks, finally turning around to face Wanda. “Is there going to be superglue involved? Because I’ve already seen that one.” It’d been a fateful afternoon with May she _still_ wouldn’t let go of.

“No, there is no human force involved,” Wanda laughs breezily, and Coulson breathes a sigh of relief. “What will occur will be completely by fate’s magic.”

“Fate’s - absolutely not, Wanda. No magic. None.” He’d already had enough of Skye, Joey and Lincoln running around being little shits about their powers, he was _not_ about to let Wanda exercise free reign over his agents.

“But all it would take is a simple spell!” Wanda protests, looking up at Coulson through pleading eyes. “Besides, does it not make you curious to find out who is truly meant for you?” She had him there.

“How will we know who’s...meant for us?”

“In the last seconds before the New Year, the spell will have you magically drawn through the maze to your beloved for the traditional New Year’s kiss,” Coulson doesn’t see what’s totally bad about that, and he’s on the verge of agreeing - wait, did she say a _maze_?

“A maze?” he croaks out. Wanda waves a hand in dismissal.

“It is not of a big importance,” she assures him. “The hallways of the base are as equally confusing. There is no need to build a new set of obstacles.” Coulson relaxes a little at that - the image of a large grass hedge sprouting up in the base was _not_ what he wanted to deal with in the first hours of 2019.

He regards Wanda, the latest in a series of ‘adoptions’ he’d made to his Bus team (it was Skye who’d taken her in, really, but she was still an adopted member nonetheless.), and sighs, hoping he won’t regret this. “Alright. What else do we need to do?”

“Your agents should be in separate rooms come fifteen minutes before midnight,” Wanda claps her hands in excitement, beginning to get into the details. “There will be blindfolds. By the first stroke of midnight, all should be united with their true love.” She gives Coulson a pleading look. “Is this a deal, Director?”

“Fine,” Coulson sighs. He’s _really_ hoping this will turn out well.

* * *

 “I don’t know, Spooky,” Mack says dubiously when Wanda approaches him in the workshop later. “A spell being able to determine our true loves? I don’t like the sound of that.”

“But it isn’t that, Mack,” Wanda argues as she flits around the workshop with him. “It’s allowing fate to tell you who your true love is. Think about it! Would you not want to know if the love of your life reciprocates your feelings?” She winks at him, and Mack knows exactly where she’s striking at: his subtle-yet-quite-obvious pining for one metal-bending Inhuman.

It’s cute, really: the entire team’s seen the way he treats Joey, always asking him to fix things and accompany him in the garage. Everyone and their mother knows that the two of them are meant to be together. Now it’s just a matter of making the two of them realize it.

“And if my ‘true love’ isn’t on this base?” Mack asks gruffly, trying to hide his excitement at the fact that this could _finally_ mean coming clean to Joey. “What happens then?”

“Then perhaps you aren’t being completely honest with yourself, Alphonso Mackenzie,” Wanda says gently, laying a hand on his shoulder. “Because we all know that your true love lies right here on this very base.” She gives him a grin as she parts, leaving a dumbfounded Mack standing there with a lug wrench in his hands.

* * *

 “Absolutely not!” Simmons exclaims some time later, as Wanda drops by the lab to persuade her. “Even though I do take stock in your powers, Wanda, this is a whole new realm of possibility that is, quite frankly, impossible.” She hits START on some contraption that no one but she and Fitz really know the name about, turning to face her friend. “It’s absolutely impossible that a _spell_ can lead you to your true love. It only happens in fairy tales.”

“If you believe it’s a hoax, Jem, then why not do it?” Fitz challenges, coming up behind her with a tray of samples. “After all, what have you go to lose?”

“It’s completely impossible, Fitz, because the statistics of one finding their true love, especially on the base, are -”

“Zero to none, and true love is really just a myth of -”

“- hormones and neurotransmitters firing between synapses, nothing emotional about it whatsoever -”

“-and eventually dopamine and serotonin run out and then you’re really left with nothing -”

“Guys!” Wanda’s smiling as FitzSimmons argues back and forth. “You’re finishing each others’ sentences again.” They jump back, blushing madly. “I think you two should give it a try. For science’s sake.”

“Right,” Simmons says firmly. “For science. And at the end of the night, nothing will change. Nothing.”

“Of course not,” Fitz squeaks. “Nothing will change at all. Why would it?” Wanda shakes her head.

“You two are in the rooms marked here and here,” she says, handing them the maps she’s handed out to Coulson and Mack. “And don’t look!” she scolds as they try to sneak a peek at each others’. “ _I_ don’t even know yet, so don’t ruin it for the rest of us!”

“But what’s the harm in looking?” Fitz asks incredulously. “It’s all a fluke, anyways!” Wanda huffs a sigh at the two and sweeps out of the lab - she’s got bigger fish to fry.

“Just don’t ruin it!”

* * *

 “True love,” Bobbi states, looking down at the young enchantress. “You’re saying this spell is going to tell me who my true love is.” She looks doubtful - and has reason to, Wanda thinks. Bobbi Morse has seen too many failed relationships to count - and to have someone tell her that the one thing she’s been looking for is right under her nose? Definitely too good to be true.

“Absolutely,” Wanda affirms. “At the stroke of midnight, you will meet your true love in a predestined place, and exchange the traditional New Year’s kiss.” Bobbi just raises an eyebrow as Wanda hands her a blindfold and a map. “Be at this location at 11:45.”

Bobbi presses her lips together in a tight line - she’s got a faint inkling of who she’ll be kissing at midnight, and judging by the way they always seem to fall back together, it’ll just be another notch in their history. It won’t mean anything different. She knows they’re dysfunctional, but she wouldn’t ask for anything else.

Still, she nods at Wanda, as if she’s genuinely unsuspecting of who she’s going to meet later that night. “It’ll be fun, Wanda. Thanks.” A true smile appears on her face. “I hope you find who you’re looking for, too.”

“Wanda’s got a date?” Hunter demands, strolling in and grabbing a beer from the fridge. “Who is ‘e?” Bobbi and Wanda roll their eyes in unison - they both know he means well, but it’s an obnoxious move nonetheless.

“Whoever he may be, he’ll be my true love,” Wanda answers mysteriously, handing Hunter his own blindfold and map. He stares at it for a few moments, puzzled.

“Look, love, you’re like a sister to me. We’re not gettin’ kinky or that sort of shite, are we?” Wanda looks properly horrified and Bobbi smacks Hunter upside the head, figuring he’s gotten a jump start on the New Year’s drinking.

“You’re kissing your true love at midnight, so you’d better sober up,” Bobbi warns him, already leaning past him to get a bottle of water from the fridge. “True love or not, no one likes the smell of beer breath.”

Wanda’s grinning to herself as she leaves the kitchen, Bobbi and Hunter’s gentle bickering filling her ears. They may not be the fairy tale definition of true love, she muses to herself, but they love each other in a unique way. And maybe that’s enough.

* * *

 She finds Skye, Lincoln and Joey all fresh from a recent debrief, their heads together muttering about some technicality or other. There’s a bright smile on her face as she enters the room, and she grins as their heads pull apart upon her entrance.

“Well, if it isn’t Spooky,” Lincoln says half-reverently, ruffling her head. Skye is next, drawing Wanda into a hug that she enthusiastically returns. Her childhood was alarmingly lacking in affection, a fact that the three of them had been horrified to learn and now took the chance to administer whenever they could. “What crackpot scheme have you come to convince us of this time?”

“It’s _not_ a crackpot scheme,” she insists, planting her hands on her hips like a petulant child. (She can’t help it - if there are three people Wanda wants to see fall in love the most, it’s these three - they’re like a family to her.) “It’s a simple way for people to find out who they’re really destined to be with.”

She notices that Skye and Lincoln immediately look away from each other, and stows that fact away for later, when hopefully she’s telling them ‘I told you so’. “And if the person we truly love isn’t on this base?” Joey asks.

That’s funny, Wanda mentally tells him. Mack said the same thing. “I have a feeling,” she answers simply, handing Joey his map and blindfold. “The blindfold is for prevention,” she explains before he can make any insinuations. “Don’t need you running into the wrong person and thinking they’re the one.”

Joey blanches, the thought of accidentally kissing someone like May or Skye crossing his mind.

“Got a hope in mind, Gutierrez?” Lincoln teases. “He wouldn’t happen to be a member of this team, would he?” Skye roars with laughter as Joey turns red, refusing to look at any of them.

“Please, Campbell,” Joey retorts, once his face reaches a reasonable shade. “Don’t tell me you don’t have your own hopes for this spell.” Skye isn’t laughing anymore, and Wanda raises an eyebrow at how she and Lincoln seem to lean unconsciously towards each other.

“What about you, Wanda?” Skye finally asks, breaking the tense silence. “Anyone you’re hoping to kiss in this,” she tries to find the right word for it, “magical arrangement?” Wanda falls silent and shrugs - the truth is, she didn’t see anyone in her vision, nor did she imagine she’d end up finding anyone in the foreseeable future.

“There always did seem to be an odd number of people on this base,” she answers lightly, making Skye frown. “But it is not my night - it is yours,” she says, gesturing to the maps and blindfolds. “It is my gift to you...for being so gracious to me.”

“Aw, Spooky,” Lincoln cracks, and they’re all drawing her in for a hug. Somehow, Wanda and Skye end up squished between Joey and Lincoln, and they end up hugging each other within the hug, making some sort of sandwich.

“You’ll find the one someday,” Skye reassures her, and maybe she’s right, or maybe she’s completely wrong, but it’s not about Wanda tonight. It’s about finding true love.

* * *

 May proves to be the hardest of all.

Then again, it’s probably why Wanda (unconsciously) saves her for last, choosing a moment when the woman seemed the least non-threatening and least likely to kill her - after she’s finished letting off a few rounds in the range.

“You think that a _spell,_ of all things, is going to show me who I’m in love with,” If anything, May’s more skeptical than Bobbi, and that somehow reassures Wanda that she’s at least not going to be rejected outright.

“If you don’t believe it, then you might as well go along with it. Because then it’s just fun,” she says lightly, looking the older agent in the eyes. She searches for some sign of relent, _some_ signal that the lighter side of May is still in there somewhere. Because that’s the side Coulson misses the most, she knows. He doesn’t necessarily mind this new, tougher side of her - in fact, he’s come to embrace it - but he misses the pre-Bahrain May. It’s this version of May Wanda’s looking for now - this side that had previously gone AWOL but was willing to return just for one night. “The Director said he’d go along with it.”

That seems to be exactly the incentive May needs, for she slowly nods her head, reaching for the blindfold and map Wanda has in her hands. “And your personal bias...has not factored into this at all.”

“No,” Wanda says quietly. “The spell works with the accordances of Fate - whatever they decree it true. If they happen to line up with my bias...well, I’m not complaining.”

“So everyone’s due to find someone,” May says quietly, looking at the map in her hand. “Everyone’s true love is on this base?” It seems unlikely, Wanda knows, but she’s seen more miraculous things happen, including the events of her own life.

“Agent May, give it a chance,” she advises, placing a hand on May’s arm. To her credit, May doesn’t shrug her off. “You may just find what you’re looking for to put you back together."


	2. tomorrow morning when we wake, this town'll be a different place

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The agents begin their journies.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Some really good accompaniment for this -- "New Year's Day" by Pentatonix!

“It’s 11:30,” Wanda announces later that night, when they’re all watching the New Year’s Eve celebration, beers in their hands and their minds _far_ from what they’re about to encounter in half an hour. “I daresay you all should get into position.”

There are several grumbles as people lurch off of the couch, off to find their separate rooms (and the love of their lives). Wanda watches them go with a sense of anticipation. Finally, everything is about to fall into place.

Simmons and Bobbi somehow end up with rooms next to each other, and they fall into step, Simmons having to take several steps in order to match one of Bobbi’s strides. It’s Simmons who finally breaks the silence, looking up at her friend curiously.

“Don’t you know who you’re kissing already?” she asks, her small voice echoing off of the walls of the compound. “I mean, after all, there’s only one logical person on this base who you could _possibly_ hold a relationship with, even though it’s absolutely dysfunctional at times, so I don’t really see the point of you going along with this little charade -” She’s cut off by Bobbi grinning down at her.

“Then by all means, shouldn’t you?” Simmons stops short, sputtering loudly. “If the whole thing is, as you say, a charade, then shouldn’t you already know who you’re going to kiss?”

“That’s not - we’re not - it’s _different,_ ” she emphasizes. “I am not, was not, nor ever will be in a relationship with - with _Fitz_!” Although it isn’t to say she hasn’t entertained the notion several times during the early hours of the morning, when she’s found him in the lab, sound asleep over a prototype of another. “We are certainly nothing like you and Hunter.”

“I never said I was kissing Hunter tonight,” Bobbi smirks, twisting her lips to hide her smile. “What sort of evidence says I’m kissing Hunter? For all you know, I could be kissing Mack.”

“That’s bloody ridiculous, and you know it,” Simmons retorts, rolling her eyes. “Everyone and their _mother_ knows that Mack has been pining for Joey ever since he got here. You, _Barbara,_ ” she teases, poking Bobbi’s side, “are kissing Lance Hunter tonight. I’ll pay you if you don’t.”

“It’s Bobbi,” Bobbi mutters under her breath, still grinning as they arrive in front of their rooms. “If you don’t kiss Fitz, I’ll be damned,” she says, pulling the door open for her friend. “See you after midnight.”

“Then get ready to go to hell!” Simmons shoots back as she steps in. “Because it _certainly_ will not be happening!”

* * *

 

_11:44._

Coulson glances nervously at his watch, sighing before slipping on his blindfold. Worst came to worst, there’d be an accidental kiss with Bobbi or Skye. In the best of situations -

He didn’t want to let himself go there.

His watch beeps as 11:45 strikes, and for a moment, Coulson’s convinced Wanda’s set them all up, that they’re all about to walk around the base with blindfolds on like fools. But then, there’s a gentle tug in his mind to _open the door and step to the left,_ and he’s surprised when he automatically follows, stepping out into the corridor. To his right, he can hear Fitz (who he’d come down with) do the same thing.

They’re silent as they part ways, Coulson to the left and Fitz to the right. His footsteps echo loudly as he walks along, his feet somehow automatically knowing where to go despite his never having made any conscious thought about them. _It must be the work of the spell,_ his mind deduces as he turns left, nearly walking into a corner. _Well, no one said it was perfect._

He’s still just as confused when his ears pick up the humming of machines he hears every day on the way to his office, and puts his hands out, fingertips landing on the cool concrete of his doorway. Slowly, he steps into his office, tugging at his blindfold.

It won’t come off.

“Wha -” he begins, about to yell for Wanda, when he hears the light tread of heeled combat boots some distance behind him. His blood freezes, because no _way_ that can be who he thinks it is -

His blindfold suddenly vanishes, and he blinks, adjusting to the reintroduction of light into his retinas when he’s confronted with the sight of May, who looks just as confounded as he does. Her eyes widen marginally as she registers who is in front of her, and she takes a step forward so that they’re nearly touching.

May.

 _Melinda_ May. Melinda _Qiaolian_ May _._

His best friend since Academy days, the strongest, most capable fighter and SHIELD agent he’d ever met, who’d been permanently damaged by Bahrain, but was somehow still the same quiet, deadly girl he’d first met during their first days of weapons training.

Who, he reminds himself, married Andrew, a marriage he’d been perfectly happy to be present for and had blessed from the bottom of his heart. So how was she still here, in front of him, when he wasn’t the right man?

“Andrew,” he whispers, shaking his head.

“Audrey,” she answers in the same hushed tone of voice. “You two were happy together. I wasn’t about to get in the middle of that. And Andrew...well, he wanted me, so...”

Somewhere in the back of Coulson’s mind, there’s an internal clock counting down the seconds until the New Year, and a little blip alerts him to the fact that there’s only 10 seconds left of 2018. He steps closer to May, holding his breath.

Their eyes meet, and as the New Year rings in, so do their lips, in a sweet, tender kiss that promises years to come.

* * *

  _Get ready to go to hell, Barbara Morse,_ Simmons promises grimly as 11:45 strikes. She lets out a surprised yelp as she unconsciously reaches for the door, tripping over her feet as they lead her down a seemingly predestined path.

Despite the loud mental protest she’s putting up in her mind, her feet are having none of it, and she settles as the spell does all of the work, leading her up and around several hallways. A few times, she can almost _swear_ she hears someone else - Coulson perhaps? - and hears a loud clang, accompanied by a few accented swears.

She chuckles. Of _course_ it’d be Hunter who broke the silence.

Whether it’s by mental routine or the spell, she’ll never know, but somehow, Simmons winds up at a place _very_ familiar to her - the lab. She pushes the door quietly with a _snick,_ the familiar sounds of the equipment filling her ears. _There’s only a minute left,_ a voice in her brain tells her; she wants to reach for her blindfold, but another warring voice tells her not to. Something about it not coming off even if she tried.

Another voice bumbles into the lab, and her breath hitches, because _surely_ that can’t be who she thinks it is - all of their interactions were that of a platonic relationship, and her dopamine levels were normal when interacting with him, at best -

But then her mind conjures up image after image of fleeting touches, of softly-spoken reassurances, of an easy banter that she’d never had to put any effort into because it just felt _right_ . She thinks back to all of her other failed relationships, of the dates that had gone horribly wrong because of her lack of filter, or their inability to understand a _word_ she said, and how she’d always end up comparing what Fitz would’ve done differently had he been there -

_She was in love with Leopold Fitz._

As soon as that fact crosses her mind, Simmons’ blindfold vanishes, and she blinks a few times to dispel of any fuzzy spots. There, standing right in front of her, is Fitz himself, his eyes widening in shock and fear and an expression that could only be described as _no no no no no no no this cannot be happening -_

“I understand if you don’t feel the same way,” she whispers, bracing herself for the rejection, but even more, the relief that Wanda’s experiment had failed miserably and not having to pay Bobbi. Fitz’s eyes widen again in a completely different way, and she barely registers the fact that it’s the first stroke of midnight as he scrambles towards her for a kiss, one that immediately has Simmons clutching his shoulders for support.

They break apart, both still completely gobsmacked at what had just occurred. Neither of them want to be the first to break the sacred silence, for one of them to say it was all a mistake and that Wanda had obviously failed in her scheme.

Fitz speaks first. “Tha’ wasn’t so bad,” he says, and she feels a flare of indignation rise up in her; in her opinion she’d done quite well, really - “Maybe we can practice some more?”

The implication of what he’s trying to say sink in, and she cups his cheek reverently. “Oh, Fitz,” she sighs, pulling him for another kiss. There’s nothing hurried about this one, and it’s slow, communicating everything she couldn’t find the words to say. When he pulls back, she whispers, “I think we can practice for the rest of our lives, don’t you think?”

* * *

 The burst of cold air is the first thing Bobbi registers that tells her that she’s stepped off-base, and she shivers. Maybe Mack and Joey were right, maybe there _was_ a true love that wasn’t on the base. The thought of being a true love to someone she hadn’t met yet saddens her a little. Despite the violent relationship they seemed to always have going on, she really thought she’d found the one in Hunter.

He was the only one that put up with her emotional bullshit, honestly. No matter whether it was for something petty of major, he was always there, ready to hold her until she was ready to function again. And that was what she missed most about their recent separation, Bobbi thinks bitterly. There’d been no one to hold her as she’d crashed against the door, letting her stoic image fall as she sobbed her eyes out.

Her eyebrows fly up as her feet guide her into the hangar, stopping gently. Bobbi puts her hands out, expecting to feel the person she was supposedly meant to be with the rest of her life (honestly, she’d end up going back to Hunter, with the way she fucked up relationships), but frowns as her hands encounter metal.

The exterior of an SUV, as a matter of fact.

All at once, everything falls into place, and she bursts into laughter, both relieved and apprehensive at once. Did this mean that they were only meant to be together physically? Bobbi’s shoulder slump a little. She supposes that as long as Hunter was in her life, at least marginally, she’d be able to live.

“It’s the bloody SUV,” she hears, and she turns, her blindfold vanishing at once. Indeed, Hunter is standing there, looking between Bobbi and the van like he can’t believe either is there. “I’m meant to be together with a bloody SUV.” He looks miffed. “At the very least, I could’ve gotten Lola,”

Bobbi laughs gently. “Lola’s meant to be with either Mack or Coulson, and you know it,” He huffs a sigh of annoyance. “If it helps, I got destined to be with a car, too,” Without thinking, she knows that there are exactly two minutes to midnight, and she steps forward. “Hunter -”

“I love you, Bob,” he blurts out, and Bobbi stops for a second, slightly taken aback. “I always have, and I’ve never stopped.” He looks away at the last part, mildly ashamed of himself. Because she’d obviously stopped loving him at some point after their divorce, otherwise they _wouldn’t_ have gotten divorced in the first place...

Something tells Bobbi to be silent for the remainder of 2018, to allow the statement to sink into both of them.  She waits until the mental countdown in her head has reached ten seconds before she reaches for him, tipping his chin up with a finger, whispering, “Neither have I,” and kissing him.

The year passes before they break apart, and Bobbi’s eyes are bright, her face begging for a new start. “New year, new us?” she asks hopefully, pressing her lips together to hold in any sort of emotion. She’s not about to get her hopes up, despite how true Wanda’s predictions had been earlier.

“Yeah,” he says half-succinctly, and Bobbi lets out a quiet laugh. “You want to do this again, love?”


	3. take me all the way

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> More journeys and a couple of realizations. It all works out in the end.

The metallic tang of tools fills Joey’s nose, and he wrinkles it out of habit as he’s realized he’s stepped into the garage. To his right, he hears Hunter’s heavy footsteps - they’d come down together, much to their surprise (and horror, right up until Joey had quickly reassured Hunter that he wasn’t his type; Hunter had been quick to declare his undying love for Bobbi, which made the young Inhuman smile.) and had decided to continue together. 

He can hear Hunter complaining about being stuck with an SUV for the rest of life, followed by a voice he presumes is Bobbi’s - he hasn’t known her long enough to tell - and maybe quickens his pace a little when he hears their faces go silent. New as he may be, he’s heard enough stories from Skye to know that a silent Huntingbird (as it’s so lovingly dubbed,) is never a good thing. 

His feet lead him further into the garage, and his ears perk up when he hears the clankle of tools, meaning someone had been clumsy enough to walk into one of the many tables set up. It makes Joey smile, remembering the one afternoon Skye and Lincoln had taken it upon themselves to tie a blindfold on Mack in one of their rare feats of pranking over the tall man, making him bumble through the garage for half an hour before Joey had shown up, gently untying it from around his head. 

It’s like Joey doesn’t even have a blindfold on as he wanders expertly through the garage, despite having tripped over everything at least once when he had his sight. Wood shavings mix with metal as he stops in front of what’s supposedly the in-table wood saw. His breath stops as he realizes this, knowing that the last time he’d used the wood saw it’d been to make a weapon...

_ “Here,” Joey shoves the wrapped package at Mack without even looking, not wanting to read the other man’s face when he opened the gift. It was surely stupid, something based off of one comment Mack had made once on an op - ‘I need a shotgun axe’ - but it’d inspired him all the same.  _

_ “Oh my God. Is this what I think it is?” Joey’s still facing away from Mack, his cheeks heating up in embarrassment. He shouldn’t have done it, he knows he shouldn’t have done it - “Irons, did you make me a shotgun axe?”  _

_ “Yeah,” Joey shrugs, trying to play it off like it’s no big deal, he goes around making weapons for his teammates all the time. As if it’s a casual gift that doesn’t really mean anything. “I...I heard you say that you wanted one once, and I just thought you’d like it.”  _

_ “This is singularly the coolest thing anyone’s done for me,” Mack marvels, running his hand over the polished wooden handle. “And that includes when Coulson let me work on Lola. Seriously, man,” he says cheerfully, clapping Joey on the shoulder. “Thanks, man. It means a lot.”  _

_ “Sure,” Joey nods, thankful his feelings aren’t showing their true selves. “Anytime, man.” _

“Damn, that was one cool shotgun axe,” Joey hears Mack’s voice say, and he jumps, realizing the blindfold upon his face has vanished. Mack turns to smile at him. “It’s still the coolest thing anyone’s ever done for me.”

“Yeah, well -” Just like last time, Joey can’t help his stutter, and it’s a miracle he doesn’t stop speaking entirely. “‘S nothing, really,” he settles for muttering at last, because he knows it’s all he’ll be able to get out. He scratches the back of his neck nervously. “Well, I don’t think Lola’s down here...and I’m pretty sure she’s your destined love...”

“Cars can’t give good hugs,” Mack shrugs. “Cars don’t eagerly learn about automobile parts. They’re not here to help me when I get frustrated. Nor can they fix my tools. ‘N fact, I’m pretty sure they’re what’s causing my problems in the first place.” 

Instinctively, Joey finds himself moving in for a hug, as he’s prone to do whenever he’s around Mack and the older man voices his frustrations. His arms wrap around Mack’s torso before he can register what he’s doing, and when he moves to uncircle his arms, he’s pleasantly surprised when Mack grabs the hands that are linked around his waist, holding them. 

“‘Course, if you’re a car, then that explains everything...” Mack rumbles, and Joey can feel Mack’s eyes on his face, tracing over his features. “Although that doesn’t really explain why I want to kiss you right about now.” 

“I wouldn’t mind,” Joey blurts out, then mentally smacks himself in the head. “I mean - if you wanted to, that was - I can  _ totally  _ understand if there’s a tool in the room that takes preference -”

But he’s cut off again as Mack bends slightly to meet his lips, and Joey stands on his tiptoes a little bit so that he doesn’t develop a crick in his neck. It’s everything he’s ever thought it’d be, and as his arms slide up to wrap around Mack’s neck, trying to get leverage, Mack  _ lifts  _ him by his torso just a little bit so that they’re equal, and it feels like he’s flying.

If he got kisses like this all the time, he’d make shotgun axes night and day.

* * *

 

Skye hasn’t moved from her room. 

She  _ knows  _ it’s selfish for whomever she’s meant to be with that she’s hiding here, waiting for her to step out to wherever Wanda had predestined them to be...but she couldn’t do it. 

Not again. 

She’s damaged goods, an off-cast that no one wants...and everything she touches she manages to fuck up. Majorly. She’s seen it in the string of her past relationships, with Miles, with Ward...it’s a miracle she hasn’t fucked up what she has with Lincoln. 

The thought of stepping out and meeting him  _ terrifies  _ Skye. Lincoln was everything she’s ever hoped to be - too pure, too good, too  _ kind  _ and completely undeserving of someone like her. So really, it was better that she stay in the room. Hide away from her emotions and her fate. And then, after midnight passed, she could step out and smile for everyone else that’d gotten together. For FitzSimmons. For Bobbi and Hunter. Mack and Joey. (She hopes somehow May and Coulson have finally gotten together, too. It’s about time.)

The door  _ clicks  _ and Skye freezes, squeezing her eyes shut so as to not be faced with whomever has accidentally stepped into the room. “I think you’ve stepped into the wrong room,” she says out loud, hoping to ward them off. “If you’re looking for Joey, he went down to the garage a long time ago.”

“I  _ hope  _ I’m not in the wrong room, because then it’d really be awkward.” Skye’s eyes fly open. Lincoln.

He’s standing above her with a concerned expression on his face, a small ball of electricity floating in his hand. “There’s a light switch, you know that, right, Pikachu?” she jokes, and somehow, it breaks the tension. Lincoln slides down against the wall next to her, laughing quietly. 

“Yeah, but it wouldn’t be the same if I kissed you in artificial light.” Skye shakes her head; she’s not about to get kissed and fuck up what they’ve already got, and she says so. 

“I’m sure there’s  _ some  _ other girl out there who’s perfect for you, and probably has a medical degree, graduated high school, and  _ doesn’t  _ manage to fuck up everything she touches -” 

“But I don’t want any of those girls,” Lincoln says softly, tipping her chin up in his hand. “I want the quirky, sarcastic teammate who drew me into the fold when I had nowhere to go. I want the girl who’s a fabulous best friend to Jemma Simmons, even though she can’t understand half of what she’s saying. I want the team leader that tries to keep the world on her shoulders, but is smart enough to know when she can’t. Oh, and apparently she’s got kickass earthbending powers?” he asks, eliciting a giggle from Skye. 

“They’re not earthbending powers, I just manipulate the vibrations of the...” She falls silent as he’s looking intently at her, his lips slightly parted. Something in the back of her mind tells her to move in to close the gap between them, and she does, faintly registering that time has moved from 2018 to 2019. 

They pull apart, and Lincoln looks profoundly surprised, even touching a hand to his mouth in reverence. A mounting wave of insecurity suddenly washes over Skye, and she shrinks back, already trying to rationalize this one away. “I - I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to - I didn’t want to - that is, if  _ you  _ didn’t want to -”

“Skye,” The one word shuts her up, and she waits, wanting to hear what he has to say. “I meant to. I wanted to. And I’m  _ definitely  _ not sorry.” 

“I’m a walking disaster, Lincoln,” Skye tries to warn him. “The last two relationships I was in didn’t end up so well.” 

Lincoln grins. “Well, then it’s a good thing I’m not a human guy, isn’t it?”

* * *

 

When Wanda sees all four couples at breakfast the next morning, a grin breaks out on her face, and she barely resists doing a happy dance to celebrate. (Barely. Her feet start to move, but one look from Hunter and all movement stops.) 

“I see last night was...eventful,” she begins innocently. 

“You didn’t plan any of this?” May asks tartly as she pours herself a cup of coffee. “None of this was according to your opinions?” 

“My answer remains the same as yesterday, Agent May,” Wanda replies. “Whatever occurred was the result of the Fates, and none of my own doing. I take it you were satisfied with whomever you found?”

Coulson and May exchange a look. “It...it was a long time coming, but yes,” Coulson says, earning several ‘yes!’es and money being exchanged. Hunter has an especially smug look on his face when Simmons has to hand over the last bag of Earl Grey tea. 

She sighs. “Laugh it up, Barbara. You’re out of hell...for today,” 

“Oh, please,” Bobbi snorts, winking. “We both know I’m already a hell-beast.” The entire team groans, knowing that the chances of walking in on the both of them has just increased exponentially. 

To the right of her, Skye struggles to reach for the cereal on the top shelf, and Wanda watches in amusement as Lincoln simply leans over to grab it for her, pressing a quick kiss to her head before handing her the box. 

Her last glance is at Mack and Joey, who are already seated at the breakfast bar, whispering to each other. She hides a smile.  _ Glad to see they got past the awkward stage,  _ she thinks. Everyone’s found love, and in the person they treasured the most. 

New Year’s was truly magical. 

**Author's Note:**

> come yell at me on tumblr @typosandteabags


End file.
